Post by maddogmarkwright on Jul 12, 2024 13:14:39 GMT -5
It was a silent ride back from Danville, WV to the Wright family farm in Big Ugly. Mark had picked his Dad up from physical therapy since his Mom had to work overtime at the Piggly Wiggly and couldn't pick Mark’s father, Brody, up afterward.
Mark was still disappointed with himself over his failed WGWF debut and assumed his father was as well, but we know what happens when you assume. Mark spits his tobacco juice into an empty Mountain Dew bottle, as he stares out over the road, and Brody exhales his Lucky Strike smoke out the rolled-down window into the humid-laden Jul air.
The silence of the ride is deafening. The radio is off, both Wright men sit silent, and there is no cell service to even allow an interrupting call or chime of a text. Finally, the elder Wright breaks the silence as he flips his cigarette out the window.
Mark...
I know Dad. I let you down. I let the whole family down. Heck, I let myself down. What the hell was I thinking? Shoot, I might as well call Roscoe, and see if I can just get back on at the mine.
Mark…. I'm proud of you.
Mad Dog almost swerves off the road because he is staring at his father and not where he is directing his truck. Mad Dog turns his attention back to the road, but Brody looks at his son with a smile of pride.
I don't say it enough Mark, but I'm damn proud of you. It doesn’t matter that you lost Son, hell everyone loses here and there. Only one perfect man ever walked the Earth and died on that cross for us. The thing is though Mark, you went all in. You did what I and your grandpappy could never do, and you went at it full time. It takes a lot of guts to risk it all on the road like that, but you did it. Plus, you put up a hell of a fight against awfully tough opponents. That match coulda have ended with your hand raised just as easily as it did Ezra’s.
Mad Dog glances over at his father and the two smile at each other.
So, cut that going back to the mine bullsh*t out. What'd I always tell you anyway?
Keep your nose to the grindstone.
You're damn right.
Mad Dog grips the steering wheel tighter and a big smile comes across his face.
You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But, it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done.
Mad Dog has a look of intrigue on his face and then changes to a smirk.
Ain’t that from Rocky?
Brody shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.
You know I ain’t good at that sappy, motivational sh*t.
Mad Dog and his Dad both laugh as Mad Dog shakes his head in amusement. As the laughter subsides. The elder Wright offers one last bit of wisdom.
But really Son, you got more talent than me and your grandpappy put together, you keep your nose to that grindstone, and you keep chasing that dream and you’ll make it. One loss doesn’t ruin your career, and it doesn’t knock you out of the opportunity to ever be a champion. The bookers at WGWF musta seen your talent, even in defeat. Why do you think they put ya in the opener, because they’ll know you’ll put on a helluva match. They know what ya did in the past, and can see the potential for what ya can do in the future. Keep grinding son, and remember that no matter what happens, your old man and your whole family are proud of you.
Mad Dog smiles, nodding his head in agreement. Mad Dog’s face shows a look of newfound determination as he looks over at his father, and then back down Highway 119. Mad Dog feels a boost of confidence after the reassuring words from his father.
Suddenly, a truck speeds up behind Mad Dog and begins blaring its horn. Mad Dog adjusts the rearview mirror to look at who’s behind him to see who is making such a racket. Mad Dog sees the truck blaring its horn and flashing its headlights. Mad Dog cusses them under his breath as he begins to get over to let them pass when Brody speaks up.
DON’T F**KING STOP!
Mad Dog looks over to see his father with his revolver out and looking out the back window. Mad Dog feels nervousness creeping up his spine, and adrenaline begins to run through his veins as he glances at his dad and out the back window.
What the heck is going on?
Ah sh*t Mark, times been tough and I started cooken again. Them meth-head Johnson’s crashed my still and stole my shine, so I mighta just burned down one of their meth trailers.
Geez, Paw, what did you think was gonna happen?
Ah f**k them, I’ll bury those waste of bones up the hollow, and won’t nobody find um.
Mad Dog presses the gas down on his old F-150 and begins to speed up, but as he does so the engine makes a loud knocking sound, and the thermostat heads towards the red indicating the truck is about to overheat.
Damn it, this piece of sh*t truck. Grab my forty-five out of the glove box.
As Brody opens the glovebox to retrieve the Glock for his son, the Johnson’s truck clips the back fender of Mad Dogs' truck, sending the old F-150 spinning out of control. Mad Dog’s truck spins 540 degrees and slams into the guardrail on Mad Dog’s side of the truck. The airbags are deployed and render Mad Dog stunned for a moment. Mad Dog pulls out his pocket knife, punctures his airbag, and then cuts his jammed seatbelt loose.
As the airbag deflates Mad Dog looks to the passenger seat to find it empty. Mad Dog looks up and sees the two oldest of the three Johnson brothers dragging his father towards their truck. Mad Dog grabs his gun from the floorboard and pulls himself out of the truck. Mark falls as he gets out of the truck and staggers as he gets to his feet. As Mark gets to his feet the Johnsons are speeding off with his father in the back of their truck,
Mad Dog raises his gun to take a shot, but can’t get a clear line of sight, and doesn’t want to accidentally hit his father. As the truck pulls off into the distance Mad Dog feels the nerves and adrenaline being pushed out by panic.
F**K! F**KING, MOTHERF**KERS!
Mad Dog pulls his phone out and calls the only person he knows of that can help in this situation, a person he hasn’t spoken to in years, his brother Daniel. Mad Dog hits call, but gets a “call failed” message. Mad Dog looks to the top right-hand corner of the phone's screen… there is still no service.
You got people thinking you’re a star, but you’re going to fade out again. I’ll give ya this Nova, you be real good at pulling the wool over people’s eyes. Not only da ya make um think you’re some big star, you also make them think you’re some sorta great technical wrestler and breath-taking daredevil of a high flier, even though you trained at some hole in the wall called School of Hardcore Wrestling. How the heck you go to a school of hardcore wrestling and come out some technical wizard and high-flying acrobat? That’s like going to vocational school for HVAC and coming out as a dentist.
If ya ain’t crazy with mush for brains before this match, you sure will be afterwards. Cause after Smash, old Mad Dog will be going to the winners circle and the pay window, while you Nova, you’ll be going to the ER and ya know ya gonna… go…MAD!
Mark was still disappointed with himself over his failed WGWF debut and assumed his father was as well, but we know what happens when you assume. Mark spits his tobacco juice into an empty Mountain Dew bottle, as he stares out over the road, and Brody exhales his Lucky Strike smoke out the rolled-down window into the humid-laden Jul air.
The silence of the ride is deafening. The radio is off, both Wright men sit silent, and there is no cell service to even allow an interrupting call or chime of a text. Finally, the elder Wright breaks the silence as he flips his cigarette out the window.
Mark...
I know Dad. I let you down. I let the whole family down. Heck, I let myself down. What the hell was I thinking? Shoot, I might as well call Roscoe, and see if I can just get back on at the mine.
Mark…. I'm proud of you.
Mad Dog almost swerves off the road because he is staring at his father and not where he is directing his truck. Mad Dog turns his attention back to the road, but Brody looks at his son with a smile of pride.
I don't say it enough Mark, but I'm damn proud of you. It doesn’t matter that you lost Son, hell everyone loses here and there. Only one perfect man ever walked the Earth and died on that cross for us. The thing is though Mark, you went all in. You did what I and your grandpappy could never do, and you went at it full time. It takes a lot of guts to risk it all on the road like that, but you did it. Plus, you put up a hell of a fight against awfully tough opponents. That match coulda have ended with your hand raised just as easily as it did Ezra’s.
Mad Dog glances over at his father and the two smile at each other.
So, cut that going back to the mine bullsh*t out. What'd I always tell you anyway?
Keep your nose to the grindstone.
You're damn right.
Mad Dog grips the steering wheel tighter and a big smile comes across his face.
You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But, it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done.
Mad Dog has a look of intrigue on his face and then changes to a smirk.
Ain’t that from Rocky?
Brody shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.
You know I ain’t good at that sappy, motivational sh*t.
Mad Dog and his Dad both laugh as Mad Dog shakes his head in amusement. As the laughter subsides. The elder Wright offers one last bit of wisdom.
But really Son, you got more talent than me and your grandpappy put together, you keep your nose to that grindstone, and you keep chasing that dream and you’ll make it. One loss doesn’t ruin your career, and it doesn’t knock you out of the opportunity to ever be a champion. The bookers at WGWF musta seen your talent, even in defeat. Why do you think they put ya in the opener, because they’ll know you’ll put on a helluva match. They know what ya did in the past, and can see the potential for what ya can do in the future. Keep grinding son, and remember that no matter what happens, your old man and your whole family are proud of you.
See, the ways of this world will just bring you to tears
Keep the Lord in your heart, and you'll have nothin' to fear
Live the best that you can and don't lie and don't steal
Keep your nose on the grindstone and out of the pills
Keep the Lord in your heart, and you'll have nothin' to fear
Live the best that you can and don't lie and don't steal
Keep your nose on the grindstone and out of the pills
Mad Dog smiles, nodding his head in agreement. Mad Dog’s face shows a look of newfound determination as he looks over at his father, and then back down Highway 119. Mad Dog feels a boost of confidence after the reassuring words from his father.
Suddenly, a truck speeds up behind Mad Dog and begins blaring its horn. Mad Dog adjusts the rearview mirror to look at who’s behind him to see who is making such a racket. Mad Dog sees the truck blaring its horn and flashing its headlights. Mad Dog cusses them under his breath as he begins to get over to let them pass when Brody speaks up.
DON’T F**KING STOP!
Mad Dog looks over to see his father with his revolver out and looking out the back window. Mad Dog feels nervousness creeping up his spine, and adrenaline begins to run through his veins as he glances at his dad and out the back window.
What the heck is going on?
Ah sh*t Mark, times been tough and I started cooken again. Them meth-head Johnson’s crashed my still and stole my shine, so I mighta just burned down one of their meth trailers.
Geez, Paw, what did you think was gonna happen?
Ah f**k them, I’ll bury those waste of bones up the hollow, and won’t nobody find um.
Mad Dog presses the gas down on his old F-150 and begins to speed up, but as he does so the engine makes a loud knocking sound, and the thermostat heads towards the red indicating the truck is about to overheat.
Damn it, this piece of sh*t truck. Grab my forty-five out of the glove box.
As Brody opens the glovebox to retrieve the Glock for his son, the Johnson’s truck clips the back fender of Mad Dogs' truck, sending the old F-150 spinning out of control. Mad Dog’s truck spins 540 degrees and slams into the guardrail on Mad Dog’s side of the truck. The airbags are deployed and render Mad Dog stunned for a moment. Mad Dog pulls out his pocket knife, punctures his airbag, and then cuts his jammed seatbelt loose.
As the airbag deflates Mad Dog looks to the passenger seat to find it empty. Mad Dog looks up and sees the two oldest of the three Johnson brothers dragging his father towards their truck. Mad Dog grabs his gun from the floorboard and pulls himself out of the truck. Mark falls as he gets out of the truck and staggers as he gets to his feet. As Mark gets to his feet the Johnsons are speeding off with his father in the back of their truck,
Mad Dog raises his gun to take a shot, but can’t get a clear line of sight, and doesn’t want to accidentally hit his father. As the truck pulls off into the distance Mad Dog feels the nerves and adrenaline being pushed out by panic.
F**K! F**KING, MOTHERF**KERS!
Mad Dog pulls his phone out and calls the only person he knows of that can help in this situation, a person he hasn’t spoken to in years, his brother Daniel. Mad Dog hits call, but gets a “call failed” message. Mad Dog looks to the top right-hand corner of the phone's screen… there is still no service.
Son of a…
Nova old boy, I know ya coming in here looking to make an impression, but it’s a second impression, isn’t it? You had a run in WGWF before and you went SUPER-Nova, burning out and vanishing into the darkness real quick. Nova, old boy, second verse gonna be just like the first. You coming in like a high school graduation, with a bunch oh pomp and circumstance, but oh yeah, you gonna burn out and fade into the darkness again after I send ya the Wright way.
You’re good at looking the part Nova, I’ll give ya that. You look the look, and ya talk the talk, but ya last run showed ya don’t walk the walk. Ya good at making people think you’re something special, just by the name alone. Everybody be thinking Nova a star, well twinkle, twinkle little star, after this match people gonna ask how ya got that scar.
You got people thinking you’re a star, but you’re going to fade out again. I’ll give ya this Nova, you be real good at pulling the wool over people’s eyes. Not only da ya make um think you’re some big star, you also make them think you’re some sorta great technical wrestler and breath-taking daredevil of a high flier, even though you trained at some hole in the wall called School of Hardcore Wrestling. How the heck you go to a school of hardcore wrestling and come out some technical wizard and high-flying acrobat? That’s like going to vocational school for HVAC and coming out as a dentist.
Some people might say you’re a riddle wrapped in an enigma, but I’m saying you’re so full of crap whenever ya open your mouth the flies go rushing in. Go ahead and check ya pants Nova, cause I’m pretty sure they are on fire. Nova don't piss on my leg and tell me it's rainin', cause that dog won’t hunt.
But I tell ya what dog does hunt, this one, old Mad Dog. He’s hunting for his first big win here in the dub-gee-dub-eff, and I’ma snatch that win over ya Nova. Ezra, if I hadn’t thrown my hat down at Nova’s silly claims, I’d take it off to ya for ya big win, and that’s all I got to say about that as far as Ezra is concerned. Cause dwelling on the past is like a tire technician with no arms, it don’t change nothen.
Na, old Mad Dog is fully focused on the future, and that immediate future is you Nova. You gonna find out why there is ten bad men in dub-gee-dub-eff, and nine of um send me Christmas cards. Boy you’d rather sandpaper a bobcat’s butt in a phonebooth than to make your debut against me. You gonna find out I’m stronger than a garlic sandwich, and I’m gonna make cry worse than cutten up onions when I cream ya corn boy.
Ya smellen what I’m cooking? I’m cooking up a big old brew of F you. Cause I’m telling ya right now Nova I’m gonna show the world you softer than elevator music. You got two dollar hands and a fifty dollar mouth. I’m gonna be hitten ya so fast you’ll be hollarin, “y’all stoop”. People going to be thinking your loosen your mind with the gibberish you’ll be talking after I leave ya brain mushier than overcooked grits.
Nova you got a better chance of nailing jello to a tree as you do of whooping me. You couldn’t hold a picture of me to the mat for a three count. Nova I got nothen against ya personally, except the fact your windier than a sack full of buttholes, and lie more than a rich man north of Richmond. So, I reckon I don’t really care for ya too much, but that just makes it easier on me to bust ya noggin open with my cinderblock like head.
If ya ain’t crazy with mush for brains before this match, you sure will be afterwards. Cause after Smash, old Mad Dog will be going to the winners circle and the pay window, while you Nova, you’ll be going to the ER and ya know ya gonna… go…MAD!